Isn't It Ironic?
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: Have you ever loved someone so much, that you would give your last breath to save them? House and Cameron.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! It's been a while since I've written a House fic, and of course when I get another idea, it's all depressing and crap. Oh, well. That's what you get when you listen to Alanis Morrisette's song, Isn't It Ironic? over and over again. This first chapter is a very shippy, very SMUTTY chapter, so it's rated M. Yum. LOL. And of course, it's Hameron. This will have a second chapter, and then... well, who knows? LOL. Enjoy, and please review!

This chapter is rated M. Reader beware.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Isn't life ironic?

One day, you're five years old and terrified of your first day of kindergarten. Life is all about naps, Santa Clause, and your world revolves around your daddy.

Then you blink, and you're graduating college. You move away from your family and the only life you've ever known, only to start all over with a new home, a new job, and a new life. Suddenly it's the first day all over again, and you can barely move because you're paralyzed by fear.

Allison Cameron sighed as she flipped through her photo album and sipped at her glass of red wine. In the pictures that she looked at, she had been so young, so happy. But in some pictures, a haunting sadness lurked in the depths of those blue green eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek at the memory of her husband.

She had known what she was getting into, agreeing to marry a dying man. At least, she had thought she knew. Maybe it was the overconfidence and naivety that came with youth. Maybe it was because, back then, she really believed that love could conquer all, including time and death.

She was wrong.

Up until the day that he had been admitted into the hospital for the last time, she had been able to believe that at any time, he would make a full recovery. Some breakthrough would be made, and he would be okay. They would have the life they were meant to, not the one that everyone else knew was coming for her.

And she still had clung to hope.

A sudden knock on her front door startled her out of her somber reverie, and she growled softly. Who the hell was knocking on her door after eleven o'clock at night? She set the wineglass and photo album down, then went to the door, pissed off as she flung the door open.

"What the-"

Gregory House stood in front of her, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked her up and down, from her loose pajama bottoms to her tight little spaghetti strapped shirt, his eyes filled with appreciation and something else that Cameron was too drunk to identify.

"What do you want, House?" she demanded, leaning on the door.

He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped into the apartment and wrapped his free arm around her waist. Then he roughly pulled her against him, roughly claiming her mouth with his.

Taken by complete surprise, she tensed for a moment. Then she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly against herself. What had gotten into him? she wondered, but she didn't question it. She was finally getting what she wanted for years, and she wasn't going to overanalyze it. So she deepened the kiss and slid her hands under his shirt, exploring his warm skin.

He groaned into her mouth and ground his hips against hers, his arousal straining against the confining material of his jeans. Fuck, he wanted her. He gently pushed her backward, toward the hall he knew led to her bedroom.

She let him guide her back toward her bedroom without breaking the kiss, confident in her steps.

When they finally reached the bedroom, she pulled him down onto the bed and quickly unbuttoned his jeans. Suddenly she was stone cold sober, and all she wanted to do was make him hers. Her legs wound around his waist and pulled him closer to her.

Reaching down, House quickly pulled her shirt off, then made quick work of her pajama bottoms. He was ecstatic to find that she was wearing no underwear, and without a second thought, he shoved his pants down and buried himself inside of her with a deep groan.

She cried out, the sound a mixture of pain and intense pleasure. She had wanted this for years, and finally it was happening. Her arms slid around his neck, and she raised her head and nipped at his lower lip. "Fuck me," she groaned, dragging her nails over his shoulders.

He grinned wickedly at her. "Yes, ma'am," he growled teasingly, thrusting again. He had spent most of the day contemplating even coming here, and he had almost stayed at home. But now, watching her writhe beneath him and hearing her beg for more… He groaned and moved faster, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. The pain in his groin was much more intense, and until his body got the release it demanded, he wouldn't feel anything else.

When he slowed down, she groaned and pushed at his shoulder until he was on his back and she was straddling him. She grinned at the surprise on his face, and she balanced herself by holding onto his broad shoulders. Then she moved her hips, moaning his name as he placed his hands on her hips and urged her to move faster on him.

"Oh, God, Greg…"

He thrusted his hips upward, groaning quietly as he freed his hands and teased her hardened nipples.

Her head fell backward as he fondled her breasts, and she tightened her muscles around him. "Harder," she whispered.

He grinned wildly and happily accommodated her, then suddenly rolled her onto her back and thrust deeply into her. She was so tight and hot… He suddenly exploded, yelling her name as he spilled into her. "Allison!" He groaned and shuddered, collapsing on top of her.

Her chest heaved as she rode the waves of her own orgasm and held him tightly to her. She was sore and her voice was hoarse, but she was undeniably content and sated. One hand came to rest on his back, while the other moved slowly through his damp hair.

When he came to, he rolled onto his side and gathered her into his arms. It was very rare that he allowed a lover to remain close to him after sex, but in her case, he could make an exception. He nuzzled her neck and sighed, not saying a word. They were both too comfortable, and he was afraid to break the silence by saying something stupid.

She held him close and gently touched his hair, not moving until his breathing had become deep and even. Only then did she slowly ease out of his arms and out of the bed.

Making her way to the window, she rested her head on the glass and looked outside at the softly falling snow. Her hand drifted to her stomach, and she looked over her shoulder at the man sleeping in her bed. She suddenly had everything she ever wanted, but she was terrified. She was afraid that at any second, she would wake up and find herself just as alone as she had been for years.

Time slipped by indeterminably, until a sleepy voice called out to her.

"Come back to bed," House muttered without opening his eyes, and she smiled softly.

Maybe this was real, after all.

TBC...

A/N: In the next chapter, it is very likely that there will be a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, so be warned. Unless the muse decides to go another way... Thanks for reading, and please review!


	2. Who Would Have Thought?

Here it is, chapter two! I thought that there was only going to be two chapters, but for some reason it wouldn't wrap up that easily. Oh, well. The muse will go where the muse will go. Angry little fuzzball... Enjoy, and please review!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Cameron groaned softly and stretched in her bed, blissfully unaware of anything. The last two weeks had been incredible, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she hoped that they would last forever.

She rolled onto her side and looked at the alarm clock. Almost noon. A soft groan escaped her as she sat up. Even on days off, she rarely slept so late. But when a certain blue eyed boss kept her up until dawn because he was unable to keep his mitts off of her… She deserved to sleep in.

Finally she slid out of the bed, and without bothering to dress, headed straight into the bathroom.

House's boxers lay in a heap on the floor, and she laughed, shaking her head. He had probably left on his bike to pick up something to eat and a few dirty movies…

She leaned over and grabbed the boxers, tossing them into her laundry hamper. He had barely gone home in the past two weeks, and when he did it was only to get a change of clothing or grab things to take a shower with.

"Just because I'm screwing you, doesn't mean I have to smell like you," he had teased her once, and the light in his eyes had made her laugh.

She turned the water on, waiting until it was hot enough for her before she stepped into the shower and pulled the sliding glass door shut behind her. As she stepped under the spray, she realized again that she would never be able to take a shower without thinking of him. Not since that second night that he had stayed…

She shivered under the hot spray, and when the phone rang, she was too lost in thought to hear it.

When the water finally ran cold, she reluctantly got out of the shower and wrapped a warm towel around herself. Then she went back into the bedroom, drying herself before she pulled on a pair of worn out jeans and his AC/DC shirt he had carelessly tossed onto the floor last night. It smelled just like him, and she held the soft material to her face for a moment before walking out of the bedroom.

As she entered the kitchen, the phone rang again, and she groaned softly. Not on her day off… She stared at the phone for a moment before she finally answered it.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line was soft but hurried, and after a moment, the phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

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Wilson spotted Cameron first as she rushed into the hospital. He immediately went to her and gently grasped her arm. "Allison…"

He never used her first name when they were in the hospital. "Where is he, James?" she demanded, her slender frame trembling noticeably. "Where's Greg? I have to see him."

He stepped in front of her, and in a rare physical display, took her face in his large hands. "Allison, he's… he's in a bad way," he murmured, not seeing the point in lying to her. "He was sideswiped by a drunk driver, and he was thrown off his bike."

She pushed his hands away. "Let me see him," she begged, her blue green eyes filling with tears again. "Just let me see him."

He felt his own eyes well up, and he finally nodded, taking her by the arm and leading her to the I.C.U. He was still in shock himself, since seeing his best friend unconscious and close to death. Cuddy had refused to let any of them help, and instead assigned another doctor as House's primary. Wilson had told her that it was the wrong choice, since he wouldn't be as invested. And Cuddy had pointed out that it was just that that had kept her from assigning someone who was close to House, like himself.

Cameron's shaking worsened as Wilson led her into the I.C.U. Medically, she had an idea of what to expect. Broken bones, abrasions, blood loss, head injuries, internal bleeding, hemorrhaging…

But emotionally, she had no idea how to prepare herself for what she was about to see.

"…and he's had some internal bleeding, Allison…"

She didn't hear anything else he said as she made her way to House's side. A thin, hospital issued blanket was pulled halfway up his chest, and where it ended, she could see blood seeping through the bandages that covered most of his chest. His head was wrapped in gauze, and his left leg was in a traction. A respirator hissed beside the bed, forcing pure oxygen into his lungs. She smothered a soft groan at the sight of him.

"Greg…"

She finally reached his side, and after a moment of hesitation, she tenderly caressed his cheek, the only part of him that didn't seem to be injured.

Wilson appeared at her side, and he rested a gentle hand on her back.

Cameron nearly jumped at the touch, and she wiped at her eyes with her free hand. Suddenly she despised the part of her that couldn't ignore how fragile his condition was, and she wished that she wasn't a doctor. Because then she could be a woman, his woman, and believe that he would walk away from this completely unharmed.

But she wasn't. She was indeed a doctor, and she knew by the ventilator that he couldn't breathe on his own. The heart monitor warned her that his heartbeat was erratic, making her own heart beat harder. Pulling away from Wilson, she leaned over House and rested a feather light hand over his heart, feeling for herself how erratic his heartbeat was.

Wilson swiped a hand through his thick hair, biting his lower lip. This was his best friend in the bed, and suddenly he felt sick.

Lowering her head, Cameron tenderly brushed her lips across her lover's forehead. "Hold on, Greg," she whispered, lightly touching her forehead to his. "I'm right here with you. Just hold on."

The man beside her gently rubbed her back, trying in vain to comfort his friend and colleague. He understood the pain that rolled off of her in waves. The man lying in that bed was important to both of them, and if he died… He shook his head suddenly. That couldn't happen. Greg House was too damn stubborn to die like this.

Finally drawing back, Cameron gently smoothed her hand through House's hair, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks as she continued the tender motion. This couldn't be happening. They had just found each other. She couldn't lose him, not after all that she had gone through to get him, after all they had both gone through to find each other.

Wilson slid a gentle arm around her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight.

She tensed and struggled against him for a moment, then finally broke down and crumbled against him, sobbing softly.

He stroked her hair gently and kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes. "Shh, Allison…"

She buried her face in his shoulder, finally winding an arm around him and returning the hug.

Wilson felt his own tears escape as he comforted the woman in his arms. He glanced over at his best friend, then closed his eyes and rested his head lightly against Cameron's.

When they finally broke apart, Cameron found a chair and pulled it up to House's bed. Then she looked at Wilson as she sat down. "I'm staying here," she informed him, her voice surprisingly strong and absolute.

"Allison…"

She held up a hand and shook her head. "Don't bother, Wilson. I'm not moving from this spot." If she had to, she would stay right there until House was released from the hospital.

"I know you want to stay here with him, but being by his side all the time is unrealistic," he pointed out gently, though he knew by the look in her eyes that his argument was completely useless.

"Watch me," she growled, gently resting her hand over House's.

He sighed softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay. But I'm not going to let you make yourself sick. You know he wouldn't want that. I'll have a nurse bring in a cot, and I'll bring you food." When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up a hand. "Don't argue with me, Allison. If you want to stay here with him, that's what's going to happen." He looked at his friend sadly, then slowly backed away from the bed. "I'm going to go talk to Cuddy."

She barely heard him. Her focus was entirely on House, and she gently smoothed her hand over his hair. "It's going to be okay, Greg," she murmured, brushing her lips softly against his damp forehead.

The resonating hiss of the respirator that was breathing for him was the only response she received, and she couldn't stop the flood of tears that came.

TBC...

A/N: Well, I guess this story is going to be longer than originally planned. Oh, well. I still think there's going to be a character death, but we'll just have to see. Thanks for reading, and please remember to review!


	3. Don't Speak

I was struggling with this chapter for a while, until I saw this week's House and was inspired! Cameron is back, and the divorce papers have been signed! Hamerons, rejoice!! She may have slept with him one last time, but it's over. Yay!! And I can't wait to see House's reaction when he sees her again!! Enjoy, and please review!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Cameron scrubbed her hand roughly over her face, then looked at her unconscious lover again. A week had passed since the accident that almost took his life, and he still showed no signs of regaining consciousness. As a doctor, she knew that the more time that passed, the chances of him ever waking up became slimmer.

But as his lover, she stubbornly remained by his side, hoping that at any minute, he would open those beautiful eyes and tell her to go home. She couldn't give up on him, not while there was still a chance, any chance at all of him regaining consciousness.

She closed the book that she had been reading and set it aside. Then she leaned forward in her uncomfortable chair and brushed her fingers against his cheek.

This scene was all too familiar to her. Two years ago, she had sat in a room like this with him, waiting for him to wake up after being shot by a maniac with a gun and a grudge he couldn't let go of. She had watched helplessly as the man raised his gun and aimed it at House, and without blinking an eye, pulled the trigger.

He might as well have shot her.

The air was sucked of her lungs as she watched him fall to the carpeted floor, and she tried to take a step toward him. He could have died in that moment.

She suddenly shook her head as her fingers gently stroked his cheek. But he hadn't. And as scared as she was right now, at least he was breathing and alive beside her. He was a fighter, and right now he was fighting to live. A battle that she had to believe he would win.

The door opened quietly, and Cameron recognized the clicking of heels against the floor. But she didn't say anything. She knew what was going to be said.

You need to go home.

You need to get some rest.

You need to take care of yourself.

He wouldn't want you to do this.

How the hell did they know that? He needed someone with him, someone in his corner to encourage him to keep fighting. And she was that person. Her palm tenderly cupped his stubbled cheek. He needed another shave, she noted with an affectionate smile. He always seemed to need a shave.

"Cameron…"

She blew out a heavy breath and ran her thumb over House's skin.

Cuddy stopped at Cameron's chair. "Cameron, why don't you take a break for a bit?" the older woman coaxed. "Go get some coffee, some dinner…something."

Cameron shook her head. "I'm fine."

"But you need a break." She approached the bed, and in a move that surprised Cameron, she brushed her fingers gently over House's arm. "I'll stay with him until you get back."

"But-"

Cuddy held up a hand, effectively cutting off the younger woman's protest. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Allison. Go get something to eat and some fresh air. He'll still be right here when you get back, and you'll feel better."

_No, I won't_, Cameron thought begrudgingly.

"Really, Cameron. Go. I'll call you if there are any changes at all in his condition." She was completely certain that there wouldn't be any, but if it would get Cameron to take a much needed break…

Cameron looked at House's passive features again. At any moment he could regain consciousness, but as a doctor she knew that it was unlikely to happen in the next half hour. She reluctantly stood up, one hand resting lightly over her abdomen. "Fine." She grabbed her cell phone and tucked it into her pocket.

Cuddy looked relieved. "Thank you, Cameron." She sat down in the chair opposite from Cameron's.

"If anything changes…"

"I'll call you." To reassure the younger woman, Cuddy took out her cell phone and placed it within reach.

Cameron nodded, her legs suddenly weak as she leaned over and softly kissed House's forehead. She hated leaving his side, and if she were truly honest, it was because she trusted his care to no one but herself. Maybe she couldn't be completely objective, but she had his best interest above all else. Her hand slipped into his and squeezed gently.

Cuddy looked curious as Cameron whispered into House's ear, but she didn't pry.

Finally Cameron withdrew her hand and walked away from the bed, away from the man who had stolen her heart the moment they met. She stopped at the door and turned around, then finally slipped out of the room.

Cuddy was satisfied that she had managed to convince Cameron to take care of herself, and she picked up a magazine and settled in the chair.

Cameron wandered aimlessly down the hall, until she reached the cafeteria. But she hesitated at the entrance. She knew that she had to take care of herself physically, but the thought of food made her stomach churn. Finally she went inside and bought a salad and juice, then continued down the hall.

As she walked, she lost track of the time, stopping only when she found herself in front of House's dark office. She looked down at the floor, then took the knob in her hand and quietly twisted it. The door creaked open, and she hesitated before going in.

Everywhere she looked, the office reminded her of him. He really had made this his home away from home, and if she closed her eyes, she caught fleeting hints of his subtle cologne. Her knees trembled as she caught sight of that red and white ball he loved to toss when he was thinking.

She set the salad and juice aside, then made her way to his desk, dragging her fingertips lightly across it's smooth, wooden surface.

At one time, this desk had been a source of uncomfortable but sometimes funny memories. Now she was reminded of the times they had snuck in during lunch and he had made love to her on it. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away and smiled. She could almost hear him telling her to get over it and get back to work. He didn't want tears shed over him.

She sat down in his chair and leaned back, taking the red and white ball into her slender hands. Everywhere in this office, and in this hospital for that matter, she saw him. And even though he was still alive, still breathing, she missed him.

She finally set the ball down, and in the comfort and seclusion of Greg's office, she let herself fall apart entirely.

Foreman was making his rounds for the day, but when he passed his boss's office, something seemed off. He cracked the door open and glanced inside. At his desk, Cameron was crying softly and apparently hadn't noticed the intrusion. He watched her for a brief moment before withdrawing and closing the door behind himself, leaving her to weep in solitude.

TBC...

A/N: Angst, angst, angst. LOL. And who else thought Cuddy looked totally maternal with that baby, and thinks she wants another?? Oh, I'd love to see her with a little blond baby... Tee hee. Oh, Wilson!! Thanks for reading, and please review! Hameron forever!


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